


Reaching Out, Reaching Back

by Kirilee



Series: Symplectic AU [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Family Feels, Female Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Gen, James T. Kirk is a Good Friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27792025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirilee/pseuds/Kirilee
Summary: Doctor Leta McCoy became famous about two months ago for risking her life in a highly publicized terrorist incident.  Starfleet Academy is now using her celebrity status to promote recruitment.  While helping his friend deal with being in the public eye, Jim Kirk reflects on the meaning of family.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Series: Symplectic AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035996
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Reaching Out, Reaching Back

**Author's Note:**

> This fic can be read without needing to read _The Walk_ in its entirety, but doing so would make some of the background a little clearer. Either way, please enjoy! Many thanks for all the support I have received for my writing. Feedback is always appreciated.
> 
> Initially, I thought this piece would be a first chapter for a longer fic, but my muse informed me that it would be better on its own. Teen rating is only for a few curse words. I am still working on the longer fic, but it is slow-going.
> 
> Disclaimer: I take no ownership of, nor do I profit from, the Star Trek franchise.

It was the first day of _Recruitment Roundup_ , a weekend outreach program between mid-terms and finals of the spring semester, when potential recruits for the next academic year at Starfleet Academy were feted with their families. The most promising students, who had already been offered fall placements through traditional educational channels (and not after bar fights in Riverside, Iowa) were entertained by public relations folks in a push for sign-on-the-PADD commitments. Said entertainment this year included showing off the current face of Starfleet Academy, Doctor Leta McCoy, who had been ordered to make canned speeches and small talk at several program events. 

She hated these things. 

A couple of weeks ago during dinner with Jim Kirk, the _Roundup_ orders popped up on Leta's PADD and the protests promptly popped out of her mouth, starting with, “Dammit! I’m a doctor, not a figurehead!” The Office of Starfleet Academy Recruitment and Retention - the STARs program to parents and agency employees, the R&R office to everyone else because of all the "mixers" - evidently thought McCoy had time to be both. Since duty status and station was shared information in 'Fleet, except if it was deemed classified, STARs must have confirmed with Starfleet Medical that Doctor McCoy remained on restricted duty as a physician. Ever since her injury healed enough to go without a shoulder stabilizer, orders to appear at promotional activities started coming through. The prospect of being paraded around _again_ was another reminder to an exasperated surgeon that her ongoing recovery from the terrorist incident, though going well, didn't include surgery sims yet, much less the real thing. After dinner, dessert came from the emergency stash of single malt.

As the so-called _Kelvin_ baby, Jim knew what it was like to be put on display. He tried to help Leta, his Bones, cope with being in the public eye as much as his schedule allowed. Today’s show of solidarity was taking Bones to lunch between this morning’s slickly choreographed _Welcome to the ‘Fleet Family_ assembly and this afternoon’s _STARs in Our Eyes_ exhibition featuring – surprise! – Starfleet medical services. The two cadets met outside the assembly hall for the cross-campus walk to the dining hall.

Jim figured this lunch would be a good one. Families and new recruits were encouraged to dine in the main mess for _“the full Academy experience,”_ which was misleading since the food was actually edible during special events. The menu was chock full of regional comfort foods whenever a lot of young kids were expected on campus. Jim was a little kid at heart, so, bonus for him: extra cheesy macaroni and cheese with apple pie à la mode for dessert. _Roundup_ presenters and organizers could eat in a separate dining room, much to Bones' relief. Jim suspected that the Doctor had scripted a retaliatory rant for the listening pleasure of the R&R staff about _“dog and pony shows”_ (as if anyone else besides Jim understood that ancient metaphor) interfering with her time to study so she could _save lives_. Having a new snark target (a snarget?) would divert Doctor McCoy from her usual critique of Jim’s food choices, so, double bonus.

However, before they could get to Jim’s Carb-Bonanza and Bones’ Rant-a-Rama, lifelong experience told Jim they had to burn a few calories walking _faster_ to prevent getting waylaid by visitors in the open courtyard.

At the moment, the official weekend program called for families to take an overview tour around the Academy with a holo-docent, especially so kids could stretch their legs before lunch. This presented a brief opportunity for Jim to spirit away a certain reluctant celebrity to the mess unnoticed. That is, it _would_ present such an opportunity, if Bones' accompanying security detail was willing to hustle across the quad. The longer it took the three of them to reach the other building, the more likely it was that they would run into visitors who cut their tour short or simply wanted to eat early. Bones was required to stay with – in part, be herded by – personal security this weekend. A frown on security guy’s face when the cadets quickened the pace through campus telegraphed that he didn’t appreciate being rushed.

If his charge was an officer instead of a cadet, the guy would have been hauling ass instead of dragging ass, Jim was positive. That’s the kind of _half-_ assed mentality that kept someone in a dead-end assignment for the rest of their career. That wasn’t going to be Jim Kirk. No way. He didn’t go in for half measures. Sure, it was hard to go all out for an assignment that was less than challenging, but staying motivated for the mundane _was_ the challenge sometimes, wasn’t it? 

While they walked, Jim pondered the truism that it’s the mundane, the routine, that builds the foundation of a life or an organization. It’s the background against which big events are viewed. The _extra_ ordinary isn’t _extra_ without the ordinary to compare it to. On the other hand, the little things in life can be the most affecting, like the smell of Mom's cinnamon rolls that he hadn't had in ages. Ordinary is no big deal until we notice its absence. 

Oh, boy, was he in a reflective mood today! Jim sighed, shaking off the nostalgia and pulling himself back to the present.

Back in real time, Jim noticed the mission to reach the mess without being held up was on the verge of failure. A large family standing between the buildings was obviously looking for someone, not touring. They had deactivated their docent and the adults, comms in hand, were scrutinizing pedestrians coming from the direction of the assembly building. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that one of the primary goals of their trip was to get a holo with that Starfleet girl from the news.

Although the dining hall was in sight, it was still too far away for Leta to walk there without being spotted by Large Family. Sprinting like a getaway, a tactic with which Jim was quite familiar, would result in leaving the security detail behind. As much as it grated on Bones’ nerves to have a baby-sitter, ditching her chaperone wasn’t worth the potential demerits and, worse yet, the inevitable verbal lashing from Captain Pike. The Captain had amazing rhetorical skills as a guilt tripper who inspired gratitude, instead of resentment, in cadets. Pike's challenge to Jim to do better than his heroic father - _"I dare you to do better."_ \- was Exhibit A in Jim's book, because it worked like a magic spell. Jim hadn't considered joining Starfleet until then. So, being brave, but not foolish, Jim acknowledged the unavoidable meet-up by issuing a heads-up to Bones.

“Doctor McCoy fan alert,” Jim whispered, just as Large Family plotted an intercept course and engaged at warp speed.

At the warning, Bones glanced towards the sound of high voices and approaching footfalls, then looked down momentarily to school her face into a civilized expression. Jim knew her effort was for the kids skipping towards them, not for any of the R&R handlers who might be observing. He squeezed Leta’s good shoulder in empathy. 

Jim had spent his entire life facing attention he didn’t seek and all the assumptions, mostly erroneous, that people lumped in with it. Having his reputation, both real and contrived, eclipsed by the notoriety of a friend was a little disorienting, but also enlightening. Being in Bones’ orbit showed Jim that his own situation could be worse. The name George Kirk was synonymous with noble sacrifice, whereas the name David McCoy was synonymous with murder. And the press didn’t let Leta McCoy forget it. At least the atmosphere at a family event was less morbid because of the presence of kids.

An older man, presumably the patriarch of the incoming family, called out to Doctor McCoy just in case she didn’t notice them, as if that were possible now that a crowd of kids was running up to her and talking all at once. Jim was proud of the way Leta, who was self-conscious about small talk, came to a full stop, waited _without_ looking like she was going to her own execution, and respectfully, if somewhat stiffly, greeted the grown-ups. According to Proud Papa’s pronouncement booming across the courtyard, the teen of the family had just signed a commitment to be a FUTURE STARFLEET OFFICER.

Jim stood aside while Mama took holos from every angle imaginable of their first-born with the famous doctor “with so beautiful green eyes.” He found himself readily agreeing with the _beautiful_ comment as the present circumstance inspired a memory of a conversation with Leta about when they first met. 

_“Bones, if you hate small talk so much, how come you seemed to do just fine with it at the Riverside bar and what were you doing there in the first place?”_

_“Jim, I’ll have you know I went there just wantin’ to have a quick drink while I tried to find somethin’ on the bar menu that wouldn’t clog my arteries – I didn’t, by the way – and scoped out the Starfleet crowd. See, in my family growin’ up, there wasn’t such a thing as_ just _small talk. Every party had a purpose, a political angle. Small talk was another name for strategy. So, I have a hard time doin' it just to socialize. At the bar, I wasn’t gonna talk to anyone ‘til I had to save some farm boy from gettin' his pretty face rearranged. Besides, it went against my nature as a doctor to leave you get hurt. I admit I even surprised myself. You just bring it out in me, I guess.”_

_“Aw, Bones, you think I’m pretty!”_

_“Infant.”_

Smiling to himself as he recalled the eyeroll earned along with the epithet, Jim’s attention returned to the present when FUTURE STARFLEET OFFICER asked the most frequent question posed by almost-adults to Doctor McCoy, “Do you think there are more terrorists out there who will come after you?” Teens loved to nudge parents about getting into something danger-adjacent _with parental permission._

Jim silently applauded when Leta successfully suppressed wincing and gave the answer she had practiced in response to this particular question. Their role-playing rehearsals had helped. “I hope not, but Starfleet isn’t takin’ any chances. There’s a lot of security. Some you see,” and Bones glared in the direction of slowpoke security officer standing nearby, “and a lot you don’t see.” The response was meant to reassure the parents while seeming to satisfy most teenaged thrill seeking. It also avoided any controversial personal opinions, so as not to poke the bear of bad press.

One of the pre-teen siblings voiced the most frequent question that age group asked, “Were you scared?” Those kids were old enough to know that Doctor McCoy got hurt, but didn’t have a full grasp of the gravity of the situation.

In the days after the terrorist incident, Bones had told Jim that, if she had let herself think too much about the danger, she would have panicked. To keep a grip on herself, she thought about the security operation like a kind of operation she was familiar with, a medical procedure. When she began to lose it anyway, sarcasm came to her rescue. It was hard to be out of control afraid while snarking inside. Such a truthful, adult answer was not what younger kids could understand or were looking for. Kids were really asking, without asking directly, _“Can you help_ me _not be afraid?”_ So, Bones answered the younger ones by bending down, looking them in the eyes, and encouraging them to trust the people whose job it is to keep them safe.

Often, there was an adult agitator – or _“just plain jackass,”_ according to Bones – in these groups who tried to show off by getting in a dig.They tended to ask the most cutting question of all, “How does it feel to be a doctor responsible for numerous deaths, even if they were criminals?” In classic McCoy the-best-defense-is-a-good-offense fashion, Bones always answered that question with its counterpoint and a withering look, “How would it feel to be a doctor responsible for the deaths of 18 innocent hostages by doing nothing?” Fortunately, gotcha questions weren’t on the adult agenda today. 

Seeing a pre-school girl in the group peeking out from behind Mama’s dress, Jim glanced over at Leta and could tell she was prepared for a different kind of gotcha question. “Why aren’t you wearing a skirt?,” a small voice asked.

“Well, sweetpea, ‘cause then I might have trouble doin’ this!” Bones plopped down on the pavement cross legged, obviously not caring if she got her uniform trousers dirty. The little one giggled. Emboldened to further satisfy her five-year-old curiosity, the child pointed at the Doctor’s ever-present med kit and asked louder, “What’s in your purse?”

By then, the security escort was having trouble keeping his face from scrunching into a disapproving scowl. Jim shrugged _What can we do?_ , but knew damn well from the wink Bones gave him moments ago that slowpoke’s frustration was her goal. Jim approved. So much for not going along with the original plan. Starfleet’s most famous doctor started giving the kids a detailed rundown of what she always carries, to be followed by a demonstration of how a mini med scanner worked. The parents looked on with smiles plastered to their faces, self-satisfied at successfully garnishing special attention for their FUTURE STARFLEET OFFICER.

Watching the family scene, Jim’s thoughts drifted to his mother for what seemed like the zillionth time lately. Bones’ situation was enlightening for him in more ways than one. He was self-aware enough to know that, if he could look at the _Kelvin_ fallout a little differently, perhaps he should look at some other things differently as well. 

Recently, Jim did something he hadn’t done in years: he looked up an interview his mom gave a year after _Kelvin’s_ destruction. The interviewer asked, _“Do you want your sons to go into Starfleet after what happened to their father?”_ and _“What would you say to parents about the dangers of going into Starfleet?”_ In subsequent annual news holovids, reporters speculated every year on what Winona’s answers would be today, since she refused to give more interviews. They made a plethora of assumptions that, based on his own experience, Jim believed were mostly erroneous. 

Just like her son, Winona Kirk was never allowed to forget the _Kelvin_ incident. Through his researches, Jim had gained a greater appreciation for some of the pressure she was under when he was very young. He still couldn’t forgive his mother for being distant for long stretches in actual light years, but he didn’t see her as unfeeling anymore. On the contrary, he started seeing her as feeling too much, being too overwhelmed, to get real help for herself.

Jim could never forgive her completely because of the massacre. Winona hadn’t sent him to Tarsus IV, but she left her boys with fucking Frank, who sent Jim there after Sam left. _That_ was the fault line in the parent-child relationship. (Sam's leaving was too painful to think about right now.) Bones admitted to similarly mixed feelings about both her parents. Her father didn’t make Kodos kill people, though he helped Kodos get into a position where he could eventually do the unthinkable. David McCoy ultimately did the right thing, but only under duress from his wife, who also did the right thing, but too late to prevent tragedy.

Too late also applied to Winona’s attempts at mothering. Her efforts to talk with Jim, be with him, after Tarsus IV were not welcome. But for his legal status as a minor, he didn’t need her anymore, having survived a massacre and all. He let her know it in every way possible. He wanted to punish her for not being what he needed until way after the fucking fact. He wanted her to just shut up and leave him alone. She did. He left as soon as he legally could. 

Jim’s anger back then was an incinerator that powered his restlessness, consuming everyone in its path, including himself. Captain Pike had seen the furnace of Jim’s aspirational energy, and its potential to be harnessed for great work, when he threw out the dare to join Starfleet. Just as Pike had foreseen, the Academy’s scholarly challenges stoked Jim's intellect. Regardless, the anger didn’t settle into a controlled burn until he stood on the sidelines of Bones’ experience. Much of the blaze died back to embers when he saw the connection between their tragedies. The fire wasn’t out by any means, but it was banked, able to be used strategically. Jim's ambition was being tempered by lessons in diplomacy, strategy, tactics, administration, and politics, to forge a captaincy one day that would do amazing things out in the black. 

And that wasn't all that changed recently. When the blinding glare of his anger receded, Jim also became aware of something he had ignored in his internal narrative about his mother. He knew he had to deal with it because a good captain knows his shortcomings. Watching Bones over the past couple of months, Jim realized the dare that propelled him into the Academy was not just with Pike. The dare was also with his mother – rather, with his preconceived notions _about_ his mother. He would show her how it’s done. He would get her respect. He would earn her love. _“I dare you to **be** better.”_

But _,_ if he had been wrong about his mother, about how she really felt and what she had gone through, what did that say about _him_? He wasn’t quite as bad as the press at making assumptions, but he couldn’t absolve himself either. Maybe he didn’t need to earn her love. Maybe he already had it. 

It was hard to trust his memories of her. It was hard to trust himself.

Standing in the Academy courtyard, detached from the ebb and flow of Bones’ conversation with the children, Jim became lost in these musings. Unmoored, adrift, he wondered who he had been, who he was now, and what it meant to _be_ better.

Despite the teachings of Tarsus IV about loyalty, ingenuity, and sacrifice, he had applied them selfishly and superficially when he got back from that place. _“To thine own self be true.”_ That was him to a fault, until recently.Right after returning from Tarsus, it was understandable. Later, it became an ingrained habit, going through the motions of life solely for his own benefit because everyone had left him, or so he thought for a long time.

Even with the best of intentions from this point on, applying those teachings to a Starfleet career would be meaningless if he didn’t have something or someone as a framework, like a family. It clicked with Jim that Chris Pike called him _son_ partly for this reason. As a captain, the man instinctively understood the value, the need, for a family of choice. It felt like Captain Pike was already, dare he say it?, a father figure. Chris chose Jim to be part of a family and Jim had to admit that the choice, the feeling, was reciprocated from the night they met.

Was Chris the only one?

Did Jim dare reach out to his mother after he slapped her hand away? Would she offer her hand again? The only way he was going to find out would be to contact her. Jim knew he needed to do it sometime soon, but he so wasn’t ready for that yet.

Did he dare risk reaching out to anyone else? Would anyone reach back? If no one reached back, he would be devastated, like when everyone in his life left. He didn't have to go through that. He could leave first, before anyone could hurt him. The pressure to run was building up inside. He needed to get away. He could feel his heart pounding. He needed...

Bones. 

“Leta to Jim! You still with me?” 

Bones waved a hand back and forth in front of his face. When he oriented to her voice, she gently touched his forearm, as if trying to quiet a spooked animal. Jim looked down at the sensation and saw his own clenched fists. He could tell from the way her long, elegant fingers moved towards his wrist that the Doctor was restraining the urge to take his pulse in public. 

Just like that, she grounded him with her voice and her touch. Jim almost laughed in relief, blowing off the internal pressure with a huff. “I’m still here, Bones. Just lost in thought for a minute.” After a pause, he gave her a Saturday night smile. 

Leta raised an eyebrow and gave Jim a knowing look in return. He wasn't fooling her and they both knew it, but she wouldn't pry. “The young’uns are cute, but let’s get inside before anyone else stops us out here. Alright?”

As they strolled the rest of the way side by side, Jim thought about his family of choice. Leta McCoy was definitely part of it, perhaps the biggest part.

When they reached the mess, Leta touched Jim's arm again to indicate they should pause in the foyer. When they turned to face each other, she looked at him with a sincere expression. “Thanks for bein' there for me today, Jim. I want to be there for you too."

"You already are, Bones."

Leta McCoy didn't know how to make small talk, but Bones knew how to reach back. 

**Author's Note:**

> Sincere thanks to all of those who have been writing for this fandom for providing me with many hours of adventure, fellowship, and romance during a difficult time. My humble contributions to the fandom are a way to reach back.


End file.
